


Three by your side

by MissMoonshine



Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)
Genre: Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-16 08:15:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28578843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissMoonshine/pseuds/MissMoonshine
Summary: Three nights, three visitors, helping Zelda deal with the loss of her niece and the emptiness in her life.
Relationships: Sabrina Spellman & Zelda Spellman
Comments: 12
Kudos: 61





	Three by your side

**Author's Note:**

> I honestly have no idea what the general opinion on the matter is, but I was actually happy that they ended the show with Sabrina's death because it's, well, closure. But I felt awful for Hilda and Zelda, especially the latter, so this pretty much wrote itself. It might have been a little bit inspired by Dickens' "Christmas Carol", but also...not really.  
> So, I hope you enjoy this little piece of hopeful sadness?
> 
> I don't own any of the characters, I just borrowed them to play a little with them!

“Why did you let her go, dark mother?”

The same question, again and again. She couldn’t think of anything else and it drove her just as mad as the grief does. Because Zelda knew, she just knew, she wanted to blame someone but she couldn’t’, so she turns on her goddess.

No, that wasn't right. She didn’t turn on her, still prayed every night, every day, every waking minute to help her through this, dampen the agony inside her. Her soul, it felt, was in constant anguish, she was withering away physically too because she could not bear the idea of going on.

Seventeen years, all she cared about was her niece. No. Her  _ daughter. _

Her brother and his wife had left her behind, left their little girl in her care and when they hadn’t come back for her, Zelda had never once hesitated to step up. She didn’t dare overstep, afraid she would never measure up. Her wonderful, marvelous, precious little girl, who had always deserved better than what a old crone like Zelda could give her. And yet she had not once thought twice about giving her everything, protecting her girl with every fibre of her being and still. 

It hadn’t been enough.

Despite it all, her daughter was dead now. Because Zelda hadn’t been able to protect her.

Blaming herself for it, that was the easiest. Blaming the Dark Mother was easy too, because should she not have looked after one of her children? Or had it been too late for Sabrina already, with all the mistakes she made in good faith, thinking she was doing the right thing? But then it turned out to be the wrong thing, for the right reason? 

Zelda couldn’t think clearly anymore, her thoughts were running in circles of begging Hecate to ease her inner anguish and screaming at her because she had let her daughter die. Had not let her hold on for just another minute to get her home, safe her, bring her back. One minute, and she would still be alive.

She went about her days mechanically now.

Got up and dressed in the morning, came downstairs to Hilda, Ambrose and Dr Cee sitting solemnly at the kitchen table. Have a cup of tea - their girl always wanted coffee and now the mere smell made Zelda sick - then off to the academy. Teaching, in trance. Prayers either with too much passion or none at all. The students never said anything about it; just brushed her shoulder in comfort sometimes when they walked past: they had hated her in the beginning, but in the end, her daughter had been one of them. Grading after that, sometimes just sitting in her office, staring into nothingness, expecting Sabrina to burst in any moment.

_ Sabrina. _ She couldn’t even say her name without her voice breaking. 

Zelda was certain that in her entire life, she had never felt as alone as she did now.

She was no stranger to loss; one couldn’t be as a midwife, as a mortician, as a centuries old witch. When they joined the Church of Night because Edward had become so enamoured with it, they had left their old goddess behind and yet when they had come back to their senses and defected, turned their backs on Satan and asked Hecate for help, she had taken them back with open arms. Not just Zelda and Hilda, who had once been brought up in her ways, but also all those children who had never known anything but the cruelty of Satan.

No, in the long centuries of her life, Zelda had seen loss and experienced it herself, she had been both lonely and alone, but never had she felt it all at once.

Marie’s betrayal still stung. Faustus had betrayed her too, in the worst way possible and while Marie’s betrayal had been kinder, it had still broken her heart. A heart that had already been barely held together by the three people left alive that truly had a place in it: Her sister and their children, who weren’t theirs but were. 

She had allowed Marie to slip in, to fill some of the cracks and patch them together and perhaps if she had been who she pretended to be, perhaps then Zelda would only be half as shattered now. Because there would still be someone else helping to patch the rips and tears back together, someone she could lean on. But she had broken Zelda’s heart when she lied and Hilda and Ambrose were all that was left and it wasn’t enough to keep her heart - her soul - together. She was falling apart, fraying at all edges, and the only thing that could have helped was impossible because her little girl was dead and never coming back.

Zelda knew that Hilda worried, she wouldn’t have moved back into the mortuary if she didn’t. Or perhaps it was just what they were used to; that in grief, they always had each other.

When their father had been killed, they had held each other and little Edward in between them. When their grandmother died, they had moved into her house together to get everything in order. When their mother and her sisters died, days apart because their souls couldn’t bear being without each other, they had gone home alone for the first time in a century and cried together until there had been no more tears left. When their brother’s died, they took in their children and raised them, together, side by side.

Briefly, it crossed Zelda’s mind that maybe Hilda was now reminded of how fleeting human life was and was scared of losing her husband too. Or she worried that between her sister and her nephew, they would starve because neither cared to cook if left to their own devices. But deep down, she knew that Hilda had come back because they were sisters and they always grieved together, never alone, and now, now Zelda had nobody left to lean onto.

There were steps in the hallway and Zelda stayed perfectly still, waited until they faded when Hilda closed the other door. She had looked into their room, like she did every night, but Zelda wasn’t in her bed because what was the point of sleeping in their room when there was no one to share it with? Hilda was sharing her husband’s bed, Ambrose had long since grown out of the age where he’d come and curl up in her bed, Leticia - Judith - wasn’t a baby but a grown stranger who resented her and her little girl was  _ dead _ . So why shouldn’t she curl up in Sabrina’s bed, where at least she still felt like her girl was there, the residue of her scent lingering in her pillows and clothes strewn around the room that she didn’t dare pick up because it felt like erasing her.

“Why did you not preserve her? Why did you let her go, Dark Mother?” she whispered into the darkness once again, like she did every night, every morning, every time she prayed. She knew, she just knew that Sabrina’s heart would break if she saw her like this, curled up on her bed like a child, crying into her dog’s fur because he was the only comfort she would accept.

But wasn’t that the whole point? If Sabrina was still with them, she wouldn’t be here now.

Her thoughts went back, back to days when Sabrina had still been a little girl and didn’t know of the darkness in the world. Days when she had been cuddled up right here, in this bed, with her daughter, sometimes her sister on her other side and her nephew with them too, and they had read old fairy tales to each other and told fantastic stories of times long gone on rainy Sunday afternoons. Days when they were throwing cookie dough at each other in the kitchen when they were making Yule cookies - it had been the same every year except the last one, because she had been so busy with Leticia and then there had been Gryla and the Yule Lads and they hadn’t even had time to bake anything except their christmas pie. That Hilda had made alone. 

If she could, Zelda would turn the entire past year back, to right before Sabrina’s baptism. She’d defect from the Church of Night and turn to Hecate, refuse to let her have her baptism, never force her to the Academy. Let her make her own choices, find her own path, because maybe, if she hadn’t forced her to join the Church, she would still be alive now too.

But she couldn’t set time back a year, couldn’t be a better mother or aunt or anything that Sabrina wanted her to be and now she would never have the chance to make it up to her. Make up for all the times they had been fighting in the past year, all the time they’d spent being mad at each other, constantly at odds, and now she never had the chance to tell Sabrina that it was all forgiven, had been forgiven the moment it happened because mother’s forgave their childrens’ mistakes and then held them when it all came tumbling down around them. 

Zelda didn’t know how long she had been lying there, crying. It could have been an eternity or the blink of an eye, and to her, it didn’t matter. She wasn’t even sure if she was still awake or if she had drifted off into yet another unrestful bout of sleep, or if she was somewhere in between the realms of the sleeping and the waking. 

She still felt the presence settling down on the bed next to her, felt fingertips running down her arm, so gently that it barely felt like a touch at all.

“Open your eyes, Mother Zelda.” It was a gentle voice, quiet and soft and warm and impossibly young to hold such power as it did and slowly, so very slowly, Zelda listened, lifted her head and turned to see who spoke.

It’s a girl, younger than Sabrina, not older than twelve, she thought, but her face, her eyes, spoke of age and wisdom that belied her young appearance. Carefully, the girl took Zelda’s hand in hers and then she was shuffling back on the bed to wrap both her arms around Zelda. She wanted to shake her off, wanted to tell her to leave her alone, but there was something infinitely comforting about her presence and Zelda gently raised one hand, the one not still clutching Vinegar Tom, to rest it on top of the girl’s.

“Sleep, Mother Zelda. Sleep.” 

It’s almost as if she could feel her smile and for the first time in what seemed to have been forever, Zelda felt a glimmer of hope, that perhaps she could, somehow, get through this. The terrible loneliness inside her seemed a little less dark right now, a little less allconsuming and there, wrapped up in a stranger’s comforting embrace, Zelda fell into a deep, restful, dreamless sleep for the first time since they trapped the Void.

When she woke up in the morning, Zelda wasn’t sure if she had dreamt it all or if it had happened, and if it had, what had been happening, but all day, wherever she went, it felt as if there was a child skipping along her side, grabbing her hand every time there was a struggle ahead and with every imagined touch, she felt a little less lonely.

She still dreaded going to sleep that night, but not quite so much as the night before. Perhaps another night of sleep awaited her, blissful hours of no thinking and no memories. 

Once again, she was roused by the dip of the bed when someone sat down beside her.

“Sister Zelda,” whispered the woman. “Open your eyes.” 

She wasn’t hesitant like the night before, but she took her time, allowing her eyes to adjust to the dim light from the moon above them. It was a half moon, and it made her visitor shine in an almost otherworldly light. Tonight, she had been joined by a woman whose age was, once again, impossible to predict. She was very beautiful, though, and her face had soft lines on it that were proof of a life lived in love and laughter.

The stranger held out a hand and when Zelda gingerly reached for it, she pulled her upright.

“Sister Zelda,” she began, a kind smile gracing her lips, “I want to show you something.”

There was something about her that made Zelda trust her and she gave one sharp nod before taking a deep breath. When she opened her eyes again, she wasn’t in Sabrina’s bedroom anymore. 

She wasn’t sure where she was, but it was beautiful. Everything around them was bright and light and in bloom; the grass the most luscious green she had ever seen and the trees and flowers healthier than ever. For a moment, the only sound was that the breeze in the trees, but suddenly it carried voices and laughter towards them. 

Zelda would have recognised that laughter anywhere, anywhen, and she whirled around to see where it was coming from: Her daughter, her little girl, running side by side, hand in hand with Nicolas Scratch, only to suddenly stop and let him whirl her around so he could kiss her. 

Once more, there were tears running down Zelda’s cheeks, but she didn’t care to wipe them away, because she was seeing her daughter, and she was  _ happy _ . She hadn’t even noticed she had let go of her companion’s hand until she felt it on her shoulder, giving her a soft, warm squeeze.

“Can you see, Zelda?” she asked, “She’s happy here.”

Very, very slowly, Zelda nodded. She could watch Sabrina for hours if she was allowed to, but she had known, with Nick by her side, her mysterious companion was right. Sabrina was happy and that mattered more than anything. Carefully, she turned to look at her companion. 

“Take me home.”

When Zelda woke the next morning, she felt more at peace than anytime she could remember recently. She still felt the child skipping along her side, but there was also the steady presence of a friend next to her now, resting a warm comforting hand on her shoulder every time desperation threatened to overwhelm her again. It was reassuring, much like Hilda always was, a sisterly spirit giving strength without demanding anything in return. But it wasn’t quite like Hilda because right now, Hilda was wrapped up in her own grief, her own life, her own duties - but whoever was with her every step through the day never once left her side.

Perhaps she should have worried that she had fallen prey to yet another malicious spirit who sought to trick her, but Vinegar Tom would have known. Yet instead of protesting, he was unfazed by the presence and Zelda trusted her familiar more than anyone; he would keep her safe.

Only when she slipped under Sabrina’s covers that night did the two spirits disappear, yet Zelda could still feel them lingering; still there and somehow gone. She wondered, briefly, if they would join her again tonight, but when the bed dipped, she was once more greeted by a stranger’s face.

“Good night, my child. My daughter, Zelda. Open your eyes and wake up once more.”

It was an old woman, older than even her grandmother had been, yet her sparkling eyes were warm and youthful, just like her smile in her wrinkly face. Like her visitors before, she held out a hand.

“I want to show you to remember, child,” she said softly and Zelda felt herself now, comforted by this stranger’s mere presence. Carefully, she took the offered hand and suddenly she remembered, not long ago, when she had been dying.

She had seen the future then, and the past, but the future she remembered now. Herself, in bed, at the end of her journey, ready to cross over in a white room, surrounded by her coven. And then, Sabrina. Slipping into the room, sitting by her side, holding her hand. Her last breath, her sister and her daughter by her side.

The old woman smiled when Zelda opened her eyes and took her other hand too, clasping them between both of hers, between their hearts. Suddenly, Zelda felt young again, like a child comforted by her grandmother when she was hurt, but somehow, she couldn’t find it in herself to care. Her visitor smiled, reassuringly.

“Your friend gave you a gift to call her. You shall never need to use it, my child, until the last day you can. And then she will send you the daughter of your heart and soul to guide you over the threshold to the next life.” A strangled sob escaped Zelda at that and she found herself pulled into the old crone’s arms, her face tucked into her shoulder and then there were bony, gentle fingers running through her hair, soothing her as she cried. 

“You are not alone, daughter.” She felt the words more than she heard them and she clung to the stranger who did not feel like a stranger at all. “You are never alone. Every step of the way, I am by your side, and your daughter is well in my care until the day comes that you can look after her yourself.

  
“But you still have a long way to go until then, a good way. And you will not walk it alone, my child, there will be others walking beside you and I will guide you and never stray myself. I will be there, whenever you need me, just like you will be there when any of the children in your care need you.

“You may not always be able to see me, but you can always feel me there, giving you the strength you need. Now, I give you comfort so you can heal, because you have endured for long, but heal you will. Trust that, trust that you shall never be alone again. 

“Blessed be you, my child.” 

She dropped a kiss on Zelda’s forehead then and smiled at her, and then Zelda blinked. The old woman was gone, the woman from last night had taken her place. Once again, she grasped Zelda’s hands in hers and leaned forth, leaving a gentle kiss above her right brow.

“Blessed be you, sister.” 

Once more, Zelda blinked and found herself face to face with the girl, grinning up at her. Then, quickly, she leaned up and pecked her on the other side, above her left brow and then threw her arms around Zelda to pull her into a warm hug.

“Blessed be you, mother.”

When Zelda blinked again, she was gone and she was alone in Sabrina’s bedroom, only Vinegar Tom by her side, his head resting on her thigh. Still, the presence of her strange visitors lingered and she could still feel their soothing presence, their comfort, surrounding her. Her forehead was still prickling where each woman had left a kiss and her gingerly, her fingers went up to touch it. The spots felt warm - like they said a blessing felt and oh, how could she have been so stupid. 

Maiden. Mother. Crone. 

Not a spectre, a spirit but a goddess, the triple goddess, coming to give comfort to a wayward, lost child. Promising to stay by her side until the day she died. It was an honour and a blessing and the thought graced Zelda’s lips with a smile.

Sabrina was gone, but she was waiting for her, she would see her again one day and then they would have the rest of eternity to spend in the afterlife. Until then, she had work to do right here, on earth. She would still grieve, she would always miss her little girl - but when they met again, she wanted to tell new stories, wanted her to be proud; wanted her to know that she had finally lived. 

She owed it to her, in the very least, to live the rest of her long life for her girl as best as she could, because her little girl never could anymore. She would just have to live for her, and just like Sabrina had never been alone, neither was she now.

The thought of their family, one day reunited in the afterlife, trading boisterous stories of their life on earth, made Zelda smile and for the first time since Sabrina’s passing, she fell asleep with hope. 

They would live. They would die. They would all meet again.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Kudos and comments are love!


End file.
